


First Light

by AeroplanesR0ck



Series: Conflagration [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Masturbation, Pining Sherlock, Sexual Assault, Student Sherlock, Teacher John, it doesn't go too far though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 15:12:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13216425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AeroplanesR0ck/pseuds/AeroplanesR0ck
Summary: University student Sherlock's teacher and crush saves him from being molested by a classmate. Clearly, the most logical reaction is to go back to his room and have a desperate wank over it.





	First Light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fangirl_who_must_not_be_named](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fangirl_who_must_not_be_named/gifts), [Hobocamp (fandango)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandango/gifts), [Katupat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katupat/gifts).



> By popular demand, here you go. A prequel to At the End of a Long Fuse. This is a series now, and there's a sequel on the way as well, so do subscribe if you're interested. 
> 
> Happy New Year, everyone! Here's to the death of 2017, yikes

“Hey, Sherlock!” 

Sherlock turned, a slight frown furrowing his brow. People didn’t generally call out to him, or attempt to make contact, not unless they had to. One of his classmates (he hadn’t bothered to learn anyone’s name) was there, striding towards him with a wide smirk. Sherlock remembered him to be one of the more obnoxious ones, always raising his hand in class to argue with the teacher. Of course, Sherlock did that as well, but the difference was that Sherlock was usually right. 

“I think I’ve realised something, Sherlock.” Said Obnoxious Classmate. 

“Good for you.” Sherlock said flatly, turning away.

Obnoxious Classmate caught Sherlock’s wrist, his grasp surprisingly strong. “Oh, you’re trying to be all aloof and untouchable, but I saw you just now. The way you were looking at Doctor Watson… I bet you’re just gagging for it, aren’t you?” Sherlock blinked, too shocked to resist as his classmate pushed him up against the wall, grinding up against him. “That old man’s not going to look at you. But I know lots of people who’d be happy to give you what you need. ‘Specially if it shuts you up like this, my God.”

That snapped Sherlock out of his startled daze. “Get off!” He said sharply, struggling in vain against his classmate’s vice-like grip. Teeth grazed across his throat and he closed his eyes, squirming away. 

“Hey!” Came a voice, both welcome and unwelcome. Sherlock was glad someone had come, but God, why did it have to be the very object of his affections who came across him in such a humiliating situation?

Lips pressed roughly against his, and then the oppressive weight against him was gone, footsteps taking off down the corridor. Doctor Watson started after him, but then stopped, heading over to Sherlock.

“I know his name. He won’t get away with that so easily.” He said in a low voice. “Are you all right?”

He laid a hand on Sherlock’s shoulder, and Sherlock nodded shakily, not trusting himself to speak. His heart was jackhammering in his chest, the warmth of Doctor Watson’s hand making him a bit light-headed. 

“Is there anyone you can call?” Doctor Watson was saying, his voice soft and concerned.

Sherlock shook his head. “No.” He said, voice soft and shaky. He cleared his throat and tried again. “No.” He repeated, more firmly this time. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

Doctor Watson nodded slowly. “If you’re sure. Can I walk you back to your dorm?”

Sherlock nodded wildly, eyes wide. “Yes. Thank you.”

Sherlock’s dorm was a ten-minute walk from the main campus. Along the way, Doctor Watson managed to coax Sherlock out of his tongue-tied nervousness, and by the time they reached Sherlock’s dorm building they were deep in conversation, lingering for a long while at the door before Doctor Watson tore himself away with a ‘Well, I’ve got to get back’.

Sherlock rushed up the stairs to his room and shut the door behind him, leaning against it with his heart thumping against his chest as he palmed his cock through his trousers. God, he’d been just downstairs. Sherlock couldn’t help imagining what might have happened if he’d been a little braver, a little bolder. If he’d invited him up.

He’d been so close. Sherlock could still smell his cologne. Sherlock groaned, shoving down his trousers and pants as he stumbled over to the bed. He pictured Doctor Watson’s firm hands. He’d felt his touch against his shoulder, and he extrapolated how it might feel elsewhere; trailing over his body, tweaking his nipples, wrapping around his cock. 

He fell on all fours on the bed, forehead pressed against the forearm that he braced against the bed as he reached down with his other hand, jerking his cock frantically, thinking about Doctor Watson hooking his hands around Sherlock’s thighs, spreading his legs open, parting his cheeks to look at his tight, pink hole. 

Sherlock’s cock was beginning to chafe, and he scrabbled for the lube in his bedside drawer, squeezing it into his hand. He resumed tugging on his cock, the lewd, slick sound of it making him gasp with arousal. 

He didn’t have the patience to get out his dildo but he imagined the feeling all the same. How different would Doctor Watson’s cock be- thicker, smoother, hotter. What sounds would he make, what would his breath feel like against the back of Sherlock’s neck? What would it be like to feel Doctor Watson's beard scraping along his spine, rubbing the sensitive flesh raw and pink?

Sherlock’s orgasm hit him like a freight train, his legs shaking as he moaned, stroking himself through the aftershock until he was whimpering with oversensitivity. He collapsed onto the bed, rolling away from the wet spots in his sheets. 

Doctor Watson would never have sex with a student, Sherlock knew that. He was too good, too moral. After, though, once Sherlock had graduated, maybe he’d have a chance. He would try it, Sherlock promised himself. Soon- there were only four more months left to go.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why I keep having Sherlock be sexually assaulted, really. I need to start being kinder to him...


End file.
